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As the days grow long,

I bleed more and more,

risking dying 

but I don't care.

The blood,

washes away any and all sins,

but instead of aging,

I grow weaker. 

I'm no longer able to keep fighting,

I hear the screaming in my head,

I want nothing more than to listen to it.t make

"Bleed me out,

the voices scream."

"Take the rest of the medicine,

you don't deserve life."

The list goes on and on

of methods to kill myself,

to end my misery.

My life,

I'm tired of watching my back,

because of silly mistakes in my past.

I thought it was all behind me,

but I guess it never will be in all truth.

I see you everywhere,

and every time I do 

it makes the voices stronger.

Makes it harder to keep living.

Because in all truth,

you need to be dead,

not me. 

But because of that probably not happening,

I can go the other route,

by that I mean kill myself.